


Smithson Utivich: Comic Book Hero

by warmommy



Category: Inglourious Basterds (2009)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-27 20:27:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13255992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/warmommy/pseuds/warmommy
Summary: Tumblr request fill.4. “You can’t keep doing this.” 10. “I might have had a few shots.” 61. “If you go anywhere near them, you’ll have to deal with me!”





	Smithson Utivich: Comic Book Hero

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! You can find this and a lot more at my tumblr, warmommy.tumblr.com!

The only reason Smithson Utivich was in this outfit at all was because the Lieutenant couldn’t be assed to fix a mistake. Raine had thought Smithson was a medical tech, and, after Smithson relayed this knowledge to him, Raine had just shrugged.

“Wicki, go and grab that little friend of yours, the lady medic. I need me a backup German speaker, anyway.”

He hadn’t been wanted or needed, but still wound up on the transport to France. That was where he saw her the first time. Her name was Elise, and she looked like some sort of angel, flaxen hair, blue eyes, a shy smile. She was the only female combat medic that he’d ever met. Her parents had taken her from Austria to the United States, just like Wicki’s family had done. That’s how they met. When Wicki introduced her to everyone, Smithson went to shake her hand, but tripped and landed on top of her. It was horrible.

Wicki swore up and down he was going to marry her once the war was over. It was mostly bullshit, about ninety percent bullshit, as far as Smithson could tell, and he paid close attention. They were far too chummy for romance. They enjoyed the convenience of being the only German speakers until after Stiglitz joined them, but they just went on as though he wasn’t there, and the guy seemed to prefer it that way.

“What have you ever done?” Stiglitz asked him once.

Smithson honestly had no idea how to respond to that. He had no clue what he could’ve meant, and they had literally never spoken to each other, ever. “Uh…”

Stiglitz laughed, smoke blown through his nose. “The beautiful one that screams whenever there’s no cover fire.”

“I don’t know what you want from me,” Smithson said softly and slowly. Was Stiglitz talking about  _him_? Had he been screaming again?

“The little blonde one, over there, the other Austrian. She calls you by a German name so you don’t know that you’re being spoken of.” Stiglitz pointed up to where Elise was wrapping Andy’s arm in thick bandages.

“Then how do you know she’s talking about me?”

“Because I’m not a moron,” Stiglitz snapped. He shook his head with a look akin to disgust. “Maybe she just likes weak, pitiful men.”

Okay, ouch, but Smithson was not interested in losing half his face that day, so he just left the German behind. He had something more interesting to ponder, anyway, because Stiglitz definitely made it sound as though Elise had a crush on him. The thought made his cheeks flush and he wanted to dismiss it immediately, but…

It couldn’t hurt to talk to her, could it?

Actually, it could. It could hurt very badly in the regions of his face, crotch, and heart. He sat on Stiglitz’s very few words until they rolled into the next town. Most of the team went their separate ways whenever they could, but for some reason, Smithson was having a hell of a time shaking Hirschberg. Gerold wasn’t such a bad kid, but he always felt like he had the most to prove, as the youngest, and he only got more spastic when he drank.

Smithson was carting the kid off to leave somewhere far away from himself when he tripped over a trash bag on the sidewalk and landed right against Elise.

While he apologised about a hundred times, Elise only smiled and helped him pick up Hirschberg from the filthy ground.

“Gerry, sweetheart, are you okay?” she asked.

The dumbass just laughed. “I  _might_  have had a few shots.”

“I’m just trying to get rid of him,” Smithson told her. “He doesn’t remember where he’s staying. I thought that eventually he would recognise it, surely, right?”

“I’ll help, that sounds almost fun.” Elise hooked her arm around Hirschberg’s other shoulder and helped to support his weight. “You can’t keep doing this, Gerry. Eventually, they’re just going to start leaving you in the gutter.”

“Whaddaya mean  _start_? Fuckin’ Donny left me in the gutter  _yesterday_.”

Smithson made smalltalk after the kid blacked out, but that wasn’t an easy sort of thing for him to keep up. Damn, maybe he really was weak and pitiful. Eventually, they ran into Zimmerman, who grumbled and bitched, but knew where Hirschberg was staying so agreed to take him off their hands.

Now that they were alone, Smithson had no idea what the fuck to say.

Luckily, Elise spoke up. “Now that that’s taken care of, do you want to go drink responsibly with me? I don’t know where Wicki went, and it looks like you don’t have plans.”

He smiled, laughing softly. “Uh, yeah, sure. I don’t. Have plans, I mean.” Shit.

She didn’t say anything, even after a few drinks, that would belie some secret crush she had on him, and, the more Smithson thought about it, the more it seemed as though that was the kind of thing Stiglitz would say just to watch the whole situation crash and burn. After a few hours, he walked her to the place where she was sharing a room with Wicki. She waved goodbye to him and blew him a kiss, then walked around to the side entrance. Smithson felt his heart thrumming away and his stomach swam, just like a dumb kid.

Then, he heard a muffled scream. He turned around so fast it hurt his neck, and he was booking it. A trio of what appeared to be angry homeless men had Elise backed against a wall, one with his hand covering her mouth.

Without very much thought, in fact with very  _little_  responsible thinking, whatsoever, Smithson pulled his sidearm out and fired, once, to the side of the men. “You need to back away from her, or you’ll have to deal with me.”

He was just about to fire off another warning shot (or shoot a guy in the knee, he wasn’t sure yet) when all three took off around the back of the building, knocking over garbage cans as they went.

“Oh, my God!” Elise’s eyes were wide and her hands covered the lower half of her face. “That was like something out of a movie!”

Smithson looked around them and holstered his weapon again. He held out his hand. “Come on, we have to go before someone comes looking. That was mildly stupid of me.”

“Are you kidding me?” she whispered loudly, gripping his hand tight as they ran back toward the bar. “That was one of the best things I’ve ever seen!”

He smiled to himself and ordered a beer for the both of them in a corner booth. “Well, I’m glad you’re okay.”

“I mean it,” Elise said excitedly. “All I ever see is tough guys trying to be all machismo and doing horrible things to each other. That’s not like you. You’re dignified, and you used your training to help someone in need.”

Smithson put his elbows on the table. “Is this the part where you tell me I’m your hero and we order a milkshake?”

She laughed, a thrilling sound, and squeezed his hand across the table.


End file.
